The power of destiny

When I was but a child
I saw a red tractor,
hit a black boulder
and get jacked right over.

Red dust clouds
rushed into the air
from the spinning wheels,
but the grim reality
of the crushed driver
was there for all to see.

Till this day
the power of destiny,
stays with me.

I wonder if the driver
was late
and drove past that rock,
if it would have happened
at another time and place?

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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